Choices we make
by aria28
Summary: 040207 May be rewritten, but not before later this year! Rogue and Bobby escaped the tortures of the lab and try to get back to Westchester. On the way, Rogue has to make choices that will change the lives of many. LoganMarie mainly.
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing, except the plot.

**Summary**: Rogue and Bobby escaped the tortures of the lab and try to get back to Westchester. On the way, Rogue has to make choices that will change the lives of many.

Ok, this is gonna be L/M, or W/R if you prefer, in a AU universe. That this pairing has become an obsession for me is all Hugh Jackman's and Anna Paquin's fault, they shouldn't have been allowed to act _that _well….

**Notes**: Dude, what am I doing? I was about to get back to my Evo fic, when this whole plot bunny I've had for a loooooong time shoved in little box labelled maybe-one-day-when-I-actually-have-some-time-to-live-my-life inside my head escaped to play havroc with my ongoing fic. I blame this all on 2 of my favorite fic writers of all time, jjblazer and Karne-age (by the way, you still own us the follow-up to Mortal Fear) who inspired me the following story –sorry, I hope you won't mind to see your names appearing anywhere near that little piece of writing of mine. The beginning of my story is actually directly inspired by MF, and jjblazer is just an amazing writer, period. If you haven't read her stories posted here, DO SO NOW! I'm not going anywhere anyway….

And yes, the new chap of Once again: Past is following in the coming days so don't worry, but I had to get this out of my system. That and the fact that my pal Mayirella flung at me one of her all-too alluring plot bunnies of hers, and ask that we write this thing together, and of course, I had to say yes…..

And last but not least, yes, this is R for some sexual content. In fact, if listed elsewhere, I guess the rating would get closer to NC-17. However, I'll put a warning before these scenes so that those underage or disturbed by such content can avoid those and enjoy the fic nonetheless.

As always, please read and review. Constructive criticism more than welcome.

They really were in a tight spot here.

The young girl known to the rest of her fellow mutants only as Rogue was literally freezing, the clothes she had snatched as she was escaping the lab not nearly enough against the Canadian late fall cold. At least the fabric under which she was hidden in the truck's trailer protected them from the wind.

She started rubbing her hands together, and focused on them, trying to make out there form in the dark shadow created by their cover. Once her eyes got used to the lack of light, she realised she could even make out the red imprints at her wrists, where they had been manacles not so long ago. At least, those were just a memory now.

She had tried so hard to get ride of them the first few days, she had been bleeding quite badly. No matter how deep the cuts would become, it always seemed a small price to pay to escape the torments, the cries of terror and the smell of blood other than hers. They had let her, knowing fully that the slow appreciation of how powerless she really was there would destroy her will more surely than any physical torture they could have come up with. This is why they had her watch those….She closed her eyes against the memories.  At least now they were out, and it was time for her to think about their survival.

A whimper from her right brought her out of her reveries. Her heart constricted in her chest. Poor Bobby, all the risks he's taken to get her out with him. When they had finally lost their pursuers out there in the woods, when they were sure the only human presence within a few miles radius around them were actually dead bodies, he had dropped to the ground, just like that, and this was only then, when she saw the early snow under him turning scarlet that she understood how badly he had been hurt. And now here he was, still unconscious, the occasional whimper the only clear sign that he was still alive from where she lay, a couple of feet from him. At least, he had made it, and now she would get them home.

That is, if she suddenly got some respite from all the drama that had been flung at her lately. It had come to a point, if she wasn't still so concerned about Bobby's health and the possible chase after them, it was so ridiculous she would have laughed. Well, at least, given the speed at which the truck was going, they may well put some distant between the lab guys and themselves.

And it was at the very moment when that thought had popped into her sleep-addled brain that the vehicle suddenly stopped in a deafening screeching. Then she could make up the sound of a door opening and closing. She put her bare hand on Bobby's mouth to muffle any noise coming from him and focused on what was going on outside, but no footsteps could be heard.

She hadn't seen their driver clearly, just his retreating back in the dusk as he exited the bar in the poorly lit car park. She had seen him walking to the truck nearest to their position, then open the door and climb up, but the engine hadn't start right then. This is when she saw the trailer, and decided to make a run for it, as staying there would do them no good. She had grabbed Bobby and, thanks to a new-found strength she avoided to think about too much, had carried him and as gently as possible, had laid him before following and tugging the rough fabric above them.

Seconds ticked by, and she was about to start breathing again, when their cover was yanked away, allowing in the dull light of a clouded end of afternoon in the Canadian wilderness. For, as Rogue's eyes got used to it, they were surrounded by snow and trees. And, as she looked up in front of her, a man. A big, impressive form, towering above her.

"What the hell d'you think you're doin'?"

She looked higher still to see his face. The voice had been terse, harsh, and the guy surely sounded annoyed. His facial expression did not belie it; neither did his body language, and she suddenly got the distinctive impression that as soon as she spoke, they would be kicked out in the wilderness to be on their own, God knows how far from any trace of civilization.

The man in front of her was obviously becoming even more pissed off by her lack of answer by the second, his hard gaze set upon her making her overly conscious of every single move she could make. He was giving her the creeps: she pretty much felt like a prey studied by its predator. She knew she had to say something and fast, although she doubted it would change their fate, but all she could manage was an audible gulp, and not for the first time, she wished she could be someone smart. Someone good-looking. Someone who would be able to talk itself out of it. Someone who wasn't her.

A soft moan was heard. Bobby. They just couldn't stay out there. If she had been on her own, maybe she would have chanced it. But Bobby depended on her, and she had to do anything to bring him to somewhere safe.

She again focused on the driver. He was frightening her, there was no denying it, but it wasn't the same kind of fear she had experienced in the lab; somehow, she was scared, yet he didn't feel like a threat to her. Maybe, just maybe, the guy was still decent enough to drive them to the next town. Maybe he would understand. So she started to speak, trying to get all the words as fast as she could.

"Please, we –my friend here, he's hurt, badly, and we had nowhere to go, and I wanted to call our friends for help, but the phone back there wasn't working, so when I saw you leave, I thought maybe you could take us to the next town and I…"

"Who you're hiding from?"

Rogue blanched a little at that. She didn't think it was a good idea to tell him any of it, but she was too tired, starved and frightened to make up a story in no time. So after a defeated sigh she said:

"We were in a lab of sorts, and we've just escaped, but I don't think they've"

"Get out."

"Wh – what?"

She saw his jaw tick, and right now, she started to feel threatened by his presence as well.

"I said get out." His tone left no room for argument. He bent and hauled her up, letting her all but fall on unsteady legs on the snow-covered road. "Get your boyfriend out of my trailer." he added just before turning his back on her and walking toward the door of his truck.

"W –wait, you can't let us here! He will die if you do!"

But the man didn't turn and didn't slow any either. She was now boarding on panic, and run behind him.

"No, wait. Those friends I told you about, they can pay you. They can pay you whatever you ask!"

Her hopes flared up as he stopped and started to turn, only to have them utterly destroyed when he spoke again with a wry smile:

"What if your "friends" don't turn up, hmmm. Or they don't come with the money. Sorry darling" he continued "but no dice: that's too much a risk to take, and unless you can pay me know, I don't see what's in for me."

At that he turned again, this time to open the door.

"Then I'll do whatever you want me to, but please help us."

His hand hung in mid-air. Rogue closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. She had hope she wouldn't have to resort to that, that she would have been able to provide for the both of them somehow until they could get help without having to do that. But right now, she alone with a badly hurt Bobby in the middle of nowhere, and her only way out of this mess was to give him something. And she had nothing else she could give him in exchange.

When she opened them again, his face was only inches from her. He suddenly gripped her by the upper arms, and she braced herself as she thought that he was about to kiss her right there and then. But he did nothing, except for looking at her intently and taking tentative sniffs, and she couldn't for the life of her decipher what he was searching for, but looked back and tried to remain as level as she could. But whatever it was, he must have found it, as, after what seemed ages, he finally let her go and for the first time the lines of his face seemed to relax somewhat.

He moved towards the trailer and hauled Bobby. As he was carrying him towards the camper, he passed by her without stopping, but his voice was gruff yet almost gentle.

"Come on."

She nodded and followed numbly, feeling suddenly very empty inside. She climbed up on the passenger side, and sat after closing the door. She was sealing her fate, and all possibilities of escape were taken away from her when he started the engine, after having installed Bobby on the cot in the camper and covered him with some worn-out grey blankets.

They had been driving for maybe an hour in uncomfortable silence. She stole a few glances sideway, but mostly looked out of the window as the scenery passed by. He just kept his stare on the road.

It was not how she had envisioned it. When the possibility of being raped had come to her mind in the lab, she had been afraid, revolted. But now she just felt sad, empty, and worthless. Granted, it wasn't exactly rape either: she had made a deal, and it was her choice. And if it really became too rough, if he tried to hurt her too bad, she could always use her skin against him, although now that she had finally got the hang of this, and given what it had cost her-and others-she could only hope that she wouldn't have to resort to that.

Soon, her imagination started to feed her with images of what it may be like, and none of them was too pleasant, but she couldn't stop them, as if she had a masochistic need to envisage the worst. And his demeanor, the fact that he hadn't say a word wasn't helping to calm down her fears. Feeling that she had to put a halt to this somehow or she would eventually been driven mad, she deliberately turned to look at him for the first time, and with a voice she hoped would sound more assured and defiant than she felt, she asked the question that had been between them since he had grabbed her back on the road.

"What do you want from me?"

Again, his gaze bore into her. He looked grave, and dead serious, and it was a good thing she could see his expression: she wouldn't have believed him otherwise, as none of her sickening "fantasies" had been even remotely close to his answer.

"I want you to stick with me."


	2. Chapter II

Hiya people,

Thanks to all of you who take time to read this.

Great many thanks for my first reviewers: fizzleup (I'm glad you liked the idea!), CassandraLee1120, lena and elz! You're the reason that keeps me writing!

Note: we're not into NC-17, in fact, it won't be for a while. I guess this chapter is more PG-15 for language and light sexual reference, but nothing graphic. I may be way out of my leagues, but hey, I'm Swiss and not all that familiar with the American or British rating systems….

Now on with the fic

* * *

« I want you to stick with me. »

This time, she really faced him, her mouth open but no sound coming out of it, shellshock. She waited for him to clarify, hell, she half-expected him to tell her he was joking. But he had long ago turned his attention back to the road again, obviously done with his contribution to the discussion, and the guarded expression on his face already told her he was dead serious.

She wondered if she had heard him right. This was certainly not what she had envisioned, the words she had expected to hear more in the lines of "blowjob" or ….whatever sexual preference he had. She was ready for that, or so she told herself. At least, if she had been lucky enough, he wouldn't want anything too sick and she could have …. whatever he wanted and be done with it. She had just never thought this situation would last beyond the trip till the next city. This simple sentence just opened far away horizons she didn't even have the strength to consider. She started to feel fear again coil itself at the pit of her stomach.

As if on cue, even before she could begin to shake, he was suddenly looking at her again and his intense gaze was piercing her soul before he retracted into himself. He seemed to be looking for words, almost talking but not really ready to. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and looking back at her, he finally explained.

"I want you to stick with me. For a while. Travel a lot, mostly to follow the fight circuit to make money. But soon there's gonna be too much snow on the road in that part of the country to go on, so I'm gonna hole up in a small cabin I have up north for the winter. There ain't much there. Hell, there's nobody else but me. I want ya to come with me and spend the winter there."

She slumped against the seat again, her stare lost somewhere in the distance between her and the dashboard. She tried to wrap her mind about what he just said. It just couldn't be….

"What about Bobby? He needs medical help, now!"

"I help you out and your boyfriend there until you can get your little friends to pick him up. But then you stay with me. For the winter. That's the deal, darlin'."

What? Did he want her as his maid or slave or something? She suddenly wanted to get mad. She hadn't escaped the torments of the lab to end up in the clutches of a psycho! She would have yielded if she'd had the energy left, if four days of running and constantly being on the lookout hadn't taken their toll on both her body and her mind. But truth was, she was awfully tired. Or how else could she explain the hint of curiosity among the general turmoil his proposition had caused in her?

Her voice only held sarcasm and disgust –at him or at her own weakness she didn't know.

"And what do you want to do with me there, hmm? Wait, let me guess, you wanted to have small talk on the couch by the fire while seeping your tea."

"No," she had expected him to get angry at her, but his voice was even, "I thought –I thought we get up there, and, ya know, live our life. I toldya, I'm on my own, I've been for as long as I remember."

"Oh, sure, and you've always turned down the women who throw themselves at you." That had been a little bit mad, on top of sarcastic. She didn't want to linger on the undercurrent of sadness she could have felt behind his last words.

"I didn't say that. I ain't no saint."

"So you want me for sex."

"Yeah, I thought about that, too."

Her eyes went wide, and she felt the tears she had fought so hard the last few days finally starting to spill out. She had guessed when the time would come, when she could finally allow herself, once back in the safe haven of the mansion, that she would dissolve into a fit of hysterics. But she wasn't now, the drops rolling down her face holding nothing hysteric, just bitterness. That must have startled him a bit, because she heard him add, in the softest tone of voice he had used so far:

"That's the deal I'm offerin' to ya. You can say yes or no. It's your call."

She let out a small, humourless laugh at that, the tears spilling now freely down her cheeks. "Yeah, right. And if I say no, you're just gonna throw the two of us out at once."

She saw him frown from the corner of her eye. "No, I ain't. Look, you said you're looking for a phone, right? Well, the point is, the whole region is cut from the rest. It was the last storm or somethin'. It's likely you'll need more than a ride till the next town before you can get somewhere where it still works." This piece of information wasn't comforting in the least. After a pause, and a deep breath, he continued: "I'm taking you till Laughlin City –that's the next place. But then you can choose. Either you say yes and I'll help you beyond that, or you say no, and you can ask someone else for help. I ain't gonna lie to you: over there, there are mostly truckers and rednecks. But usually the truckers are pretty decent. I'm sure you can find one who would lean you a hand. In fact, you might even be better off this way. It's up to you."

For a while, his offer was met with silence. But the tears were receding, and the wheels were starting to turn in her head. There was something that was giving her pause in her assessment of the situation, but she couldn't tell what. Something that didn't add up to the image of a sex-driven psycho, kidnapping a girl to have some whenever he wanted to. Something that stopped her from saying no at once, no matter how much it seemed to be the only answer that would at least salvage whatever dignity she still had left.

"Why?"

He didn't turn this time, but she could see an eyebrow arching.

"Why do you help us now? I thought you didn't want to, not without payment of some kind."

"Mmph. Nothing personal. But you said you were followed by guys from a lab, right? And I don't want to take chances with those fuckers." He shot her a quick glance of defiance, cutting short the obvious question that she would inevitably ask. She lowered her head. He continued: "But I'd been driving for a couple of hours before I found you. If they'd known you were hiding back there, they would already have caught up with us. So, until Laughlin, I guess that it's pretty safe. Besides, I would use the fuel anyway, whether I'm alone or with someone in here."

She took a few moments to chew on that. She was feeling less and less threatened, and more and more curious: she knew that reaction couldn't be rational, that it must be the depravation of food and sleep that was turning her inner alarms off. But it was still that very curiosity that had her ask:

"But why me?"

At first, she thought he hadn't heard her as he hadn't let on any notable sign that he might have, and she almost hoped he really hadn't. What a lame question, get to show how much of an idiot she could be at times. But after a while, and a shrug of his shoulders, she heard: "Can't say really. I just had to."

She couldn't help the retort, nor the acid sipping in her voice; she didn't understand the hurt and the disappointment she was feeling when she said it, either. "I was there. I was convenient"

"No, no it's not that. It's just –I don't know."

They rode the last hundred miles that were separating them from Laughlin City in uneasy silence.

* * *

Ok, I didn't plan to stop that soon at first, but suddenly it seemed better that way. That also means that part of the next chapter is already up, and that update is coming you way soon, SO BEWARE!!!!!!!


	3. CHapter III

Story title: Choices we make 3/?  
  
Author name: Aria  
  
Email:   
  
Rating: NC-17 (this part is PG-13 though)  
  
Disclaimer : I own nothing, except the plot.  
  
Summary: Rogue and Bobby escaped the tortures of the lab and try to  
get back to Westchester. On the way, Rogue has to make choices that  
will change the lives of many.

As usual, first: many thanks for reading and reviewing to shelaweena (hope you like this new chapter!), Rouge07 (thanks for the remark about Logan helping them for that reason: I wasn't planning to address it at all, but you made me change my plans), elz (thanks for keeping reviewing), tattoo (I love publishing it little by little to try and learn from criticism and improve on the following chaps, so I'm sorry, but you'll have to bear with me, lol! But I'm glad you liked it nonetheless….) and Kat, nicca and foamgnome for there support.

And ok, there must be a lot of mistakes of all kind, but I haven't stopped working on one thing or another since 8 A.M.. It's past 10 P.M., and I just don't have the courage to read all this again. I'll come back and do some corrections when I'll feel better. Like, after a couple of days sleep.

Now on with the fic!

* * *

And they called this place Laughlin _City_.

Rogue looked around her after stepping out of the truck. She had wanted to stay inside with Bobby, but their driver had been right: she needed to go with him, if only to get food and some medical stuff of sort for Bobby. But now that she'd had a good look around, she was pretty sure that finding decent food would be accomplishment enough. Three poor buildings, only one lit, most probably the bar. Scratch the medical stuff.

He was about to join her outside, just taking time to throw another blanket on the cot and check quickly the condition of his other "guest". _Their driver_, she thought bitterly. Great, she was considering a deal including sex with a guy whose name she didn't even know. But somehow, she restrained herself from asking him: it felt better if she kept this as impersonal, as detached as possible.

This had been a defence mechanism she'd had time to perfect in the lab, when it became too difficult to keep the horror at bay: retreat into herself, let the survival skills take over and not think beyond that. She had been so far gone that, once out, it had taken a while to turn back to her normal, caring self, and she was still both ashamed and angry at herself that, even for a split-second, she had considered letting Bobby in the snow, the burden of his unconscious body only a hindrance in her escape.

Besides, he would surely want her name in return, and that was not something she felt comfortable to give.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't see him stop about three meters ahead of her and turn around. It is only when he yelled "It's this way, unless you've planed to freeze your ass out there?" that she snapped out of it enough to follow numbly.

If only Bobby could be conscious long enough. They could contact the mansion directly, and get out of this mess.

* * *

He'd hoped that there would be some fighting today. Not because he needed the money. Even if he headed straight tonight to his cabin, he had enough of it to last him for the next 6 months. Maybe for the next year.

He didn't know exactly, it's not as if he'd ever cared for it as long as he had enough to cover the most basic necessities –food, shelter, clothes. But he needed to let lose after the events of the last hours: there was a nasty amount of tension lodged right between his shoulders, and sex, unless he somehow lost his new "charge", wouldn't be an option this time.

But there wasn't any until tomorrow and he couldn't exactly start pounding on the first guy he met just for the sake of it. They _were_ in the civilized world, after all, or at least at the edge of it. It's not as if anybody would really care, but keeping low profile outside the cage was a necessity to avoid questions that may, one day, end up in him locked in one of those labs again. So, unless someone drunk enough would get some ideas and provoke him, there would be no fight for him tonight.

Today was not his lucky day. Or maybe he'd been so lucky that she'd chosen his truck of all those parked outside the last bar, that he'd just run out for the rest of his life. He wasn't sure which was true.

A quick look above his shoulder told him that she was pretty much the definition of lost, standing before the door, assessing her surroundings with those doe-like eyes of hers. After a few moments, she zeroed in onto the restroom sign, and walked straight there, passing him by without even looking.

He chuckled. Maybe she wasn't as lost as he thought, after all. She was plenty scared alright, but there was also fire in this one, of that he was sure: that she had looked at him square in the eye as she was all but freezing to death when they stood by his truck was proof enough.

Then he sobered almost immediately: and what if she tried to escape? He was almost sure he remembered a small window over there, and he pictured her petite enough to pass through it. Yet she certainly wouldn't leave without her boyfriend –name was Bob or somethin'- and she didn't have the keys to his truck. His head started spinning with images of her trying to carry him deep into the snow covered woods and….

He took his head between his hands, elbows resting on each side of his beer. Christ! She certainly did a number on him! When did he start to care anyway?

It's not that he never cared. He cared for a few guys he'd met along the way, not enough to call them friends, but enough to help them out and eventually ask for theirs in exchange. He cared enough for the women he's been with to be careful never to hurt them, or not any more than they wanted him to.

But she didn't belong to any of those two categories, he knew that much. Even if she probably thought that, in his mind, she would fit well in the second. But she didn't. It wasn't even that he hadn't thought of it once he held her. He wasn't a cradle robber, and she was young, but not _too_ young, the too small clothes and lack of coat revealing a body that was certainly all woman, even if a little too thin, something to be expected if she really had been held for any length of time in one of these places.

He hadn't lied to her, back in his truck. He had been considering the sex too. After all, he was a man with a sex drive to match. But this time, it had only been a passing thought among all the others she had evoked in him. All this had been so surprising, so overwhelming and so new, that he hadn't discerned much among the mist. But for the first time he could remembered, he had genuinely wondered about someone's well-being, with the intention to do something about it if he could. He had never given anybody else's much consideration, not even to his own.

He couldn't tell if it had been her scared scent, her defiant eyes or something else that eluded him completely. It certainly wasn't her words, the term of "lab" ringing bells immediately, and the need to put as much distance between him and anything that had some connection to those nightmarish places, had overpowered all other considerations. But it hadn't lasted long against what had assailed him.

Her presence had made something warm inside him, and he'd liked that. He couldn't define it any better, but for now it would suffice.

Hopefully, she would give him enough time to explore those new sensations, but that wasn't a given. There were a few truckers here, some of them looking almost nice. Or at least, nicer than him at any rate. Even with Bob hurting over there, he was quite sure that she could find a ride far enough from here to get to a phone in working order.

He didn't know what to make of her, but he certainly knew he didn't want to let her go. But that had to be her choice, no question about it. He had been honest with her from the word go, telling her things as they came to his mind, and he remembered that, at some point, he had heard or read something about honesty being fundamental to a relationship.

But now that he started wondering about what she could think of him, he was realizing that this honesty would most certainly cost him any shot he could ever had with her.

Wouldn't that be ironic? _Well, that's the story of my life_.

He barely had the time to finish that thought when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He didn't need to take more than a sniff to know who it was, the pungent smell easy enough to recognize. He had beaten that excuse for a man the week before in the ring, and obviously, he needed an encore. Maybe after all, he would have his fight, even if against that, it would be very satisfactory to win.

"What do you want?"

"You own me some money." A whisper "I know what you are."

"You lost your money. You keep this up, you lose something else."

The big bald pathetic guy may had been drunk, but not enough so not to be scared, and the low, chilling voice combined with the memory of the beating he had taken were enough to make the guy take a couple of steps back, bumping into someone who had just emerged from the restroom.

All was still for an instant, until the hideous laugh of big baldy could be heard before he said loudly "Well, look at that. It was about time I got lucky too."

He turned enough to see baldy trying to catch the girl's arm. She eluded him the first time, but he soon had her trapped against the door, his massive bulk masking her from his view completely; he didn't need it to taste her fright heavy in the air.

Something in him snapped, and before any of his moves had the time to register, he had whirled the guy around, pushed him against the wall in front of the bar, and unsheathed his claw, the middle one puncturing lightly the fat neck the other two were holding in place, a little river of gore now flowing down below the line of the shirt.

There was no sound but heavy breathes.

He unlocked his eyes from those terrified in front of his to his claws. He hadn't even realized he had taken them out. Now it was too late. She had seen them.

Not even daring to take a look at her, he let the stud's neck go, and without a word, exited the joint.

He was almost relieved for the blizzard that welcomed him, cooling him down.

He hadn't even had the time to ask her name. He hadn't even known if she was a mutant or not. It was rumoured that sometimes, humans who had tried to protect mutants were captured too; but those usually met a quick, albeit painful death, so there was a definitive chance she would be a mutant, and her little boyfriend too.

But all that didn't matter anymore. What she had just seen, even the horrors of the lab couldn't prepare her for who he was. For _what_ he was.

He let out a bark out laughter that echoed in the night. This ironic life of his.

So when he heard it, he thought at first that his super-heightened senses had let him down. She had just run behind him, and that, combined with the fear and everything that had just transpired, had her pretty much out of breath, but her words had been the same nonetheless:

"What's your name?"

* * *

Ok, what did you think? As always, please, read and review!


	4. Chapter IV

Story title: Choices we make 4?

Author name: Aria

Rating: this part is PG-13/PG-15

Disclaimer : I own nothing, except the plot.

Summary: Rogue and Bobby escaped the tortures of the lab and try to  
get back to Westchester. On the way, Rogue has to make choices that  
will change the lives of many.

Life takes unexpected turns all the time. I started to write down a couple of fanfics last year, thinking there couldn't be a better moment in my life to take some time and finally put on paper (literally or figuratively, of course!) all these ideas that have been born in my mind while reading all those fabulous stories out there. Of course, it came to be that I never had so little time, and even more importantly, it never had been so difficult for me to focus on it. Anyway, let's hope 2005 turns better in that regard than 2004. Having finally acquired a computer for my home certainly should help...

Oh, and this is not a happy, flowery chapter. . You didn't really think that he was gonna fall for her and become romantic-Logan all of a sudden, did you?

Now on with the fic!

* * *

Rogue flopped in the armchair. She didn't know those places could exist anymore. 

She wasn't even sarcastic. A few months earlier, she would have been. They were in a snowbound seedy motel in the middle of the wilderness of Canada. The jerk at the reception had spent the little time required to get the keys to their two connecting rooms taking an eyeful. The rooms weren't any better than the exterior aspect, and probably hadn't seen a vacuum in the last couple of years. She tried not to think of all the acarids hidden in the matress or in the bedspread. At least, the towels seemed clean enough, although they must have seen better days, and she had used them to finally clean Bobby's wounds once he had been laid down on the double bed. That, a roof, the heat, and, above all, the fact that she didn't have to look constantly over her shoulder, that she didn't have to mentally ready herself for whatever was coming, were luxuries she hadn't had the chance to indulge in for longer than she could remember.

Poor Bobby, no wonder he had passed out two days ago. He had been shot twice, once in the thigh and in the left upper arm, no counting the exhaustion and the tortures endured in the lab. He had bled badly, but fortunately, neither bullet had nicked an artery, of that she was sure, or he wouldn't have survived otherwise. She had winced many times doing this gruesome task, presuming she had hurt him as he moaned repeatedly, but she knew she had to carry on nonetheless to avoid risking an infection.

Whatever the pain may have been and how much it had registered, it hadn't roused him to consciousness, and she didn't know if she should be thankful or not. Without a phone, the only way to get help from the X-men was to be found by Cerebro; unfortunately, it couldn't locate unconscious people, or her...

She abruptly stood up. She needed to get clean. She needed to scrub her skin, her treacherous skin, until nothing was left of it.

Until nothing was left of her, and she could pretend to be someone else.

Her back to the connecting door, she started to undress hastily, and her clothes hit the ground at a fast pace. She was caught up in her own thoughts, something that happened to her frequently, and with the relative sense of security provided by the neutral environment, she had considerably lowered her guard. It was therefore only when she was about to remove her plain, soiled cotton panties that she felt the presence behind her. She turned her torso quickly, bringing up her arms to hid her breasts.

He stood there motionless on the threshold. _Logan_ stood there motionless in the threshold.

She hadn't reflected on what to do when she had run after him outside the bar. She had followed her instincts, her instincts that had told her to ask for his name, to reach for his arm with her gloveless hand and to lay it on the leather of his jacket, just above the wrist. It had been her instincts that had her made this soothing gesture, that had her wait until he was calm enough to talk.

He had blurted only one word: _Logan_.

And it had been her instinct that had her whispering her name back, something that she would had probably never said had she listened to her reason instead. Something that no one else she'd met since she had been abandoned in the care of Professor Xavier had ever heard from her.

_Marie_

No more words were exchanged then, and Logan never totally turned to face her, but his eyes connected with hers for a brief second before he gestured for her to follow and he started to walk back to the truck.

His expression had been almost apologetic then. And his voice, the few times he addressed her while they got settled, had been the softest tone she had heard him use so far. But no trace of apology was there as she stood almost naked before his gaze, his eyes looking at her form lit by the bathroom's light coming from behind her.

For one, maybe two seconds, she stayed there, not knowing how his actions made her feel. And then it all came back in a flash. The deal. And all those mental images that she had had the time to conjure in his truck about what intimacy would be with this man came back to her in a hurry.

She blush furiously, and in the steadiest tone she could muster under the circumstances, she said:

"You have no right to look at me like that!"

"I think I have. We made a deal."

His voice was rough, and he was leaning nonchalantly with one arm against the door frame, a cigar in the hand. The other one was behind his back, obviously holding something pretty big, but the lack of light made it impossible for her to make out. Clad only in jeans and a too tight white T-shit, at that very moment, he was confidence personified. He took one drag, before adding:

"And I wanna see what's in my end of that deal, darlin'."

She knew exactly what he expected of her; she was torn between being scandalized at that and the feeling that his gaze fixed on her was slowly inducing. But in her current state, the rage won. Fuming, she violently hit the floor with her naked, delicate foot, and she shot:

"I am no whore!"

He didn't seemed the least impressed, which made her all the more furious.

"I didn't say that. It ain't the point, and you know it. Now lower your arms, darlin'."

Since she didn't bulge, he added.

"Now, you don't want to find yourself tomorrow back in the cold with Bob there hurting all over."

Her chin started to tremble, as the truth of their situation asserted itself anew. It had been so easy to forget in their warm room, located somewhere near the civilization, all the hurt, all the fear, all the humiliation, if only for a little while. Suddenly, it all came back like a slap on her face. She had believed that they had established a connection of sorts, that she had seen earlier, in the neon light of the bar, some sort of understanding, even of compassion. She felt like she had been dreaming and violently shaken up. And that hurt more than she thought it would be possible outside the lab

She tried not to think. Clenching her teeth and closing her eyes, full of unshed tears, she dropped her arms slowly and waited, preparing herself for his touch, her throat dry at the thought that it was going to happen in the same room where Bobby lied. This was all so wrong: it should have been with him; now he'll be the unconscious witness of it with another, and she felt like she was about to throw up.

She didn't know how long she stood there, blind to what was going on around her. Minutes, at least. And still, no touch.

It wasn't exactly true. She could feel a warmth irradiating from a source in front of her, slowly caressing her, wrapping around her body, sweeping through the pores of her skin. Her throat cleared and her jaw relaxed, and she let herself bask in this comforting sensation, until naturally her eyes opened.

First she could barely distinguish the human features behind the foul smoke, which dissipated slowly, and she offhandedly thought of a bride's veil that is lifted. Thanks to the light coming from behind her, she could finally make up perfectly every details of what was just before her. Eyes, that used to be hazel, but now were black and appeared dilated. At the back of her mind, there was this nagging knowledge that she should run from such an intense gaze. But her body didn't heed the warning, and she made a step towards him.

He then blinked once, and his pupils cleared somewhat. His impassable expression didn't change though. He threw dejectedly what he had been holding behind him all this time on the bed: blankets.

"I don't need those."

His voice was asdetached as she'd ever heard it, and he turned abruptly, and the coat of warmth vanished with him. Somewhere in the distance she heard the door close, but she didn't see.

Her knees gave up and the bitter tears that had been there for so long now run freely on the alabaster skin of cheeks. And she sobbed for a long time on the floor of this seedy little motel lost in the Canadian wilderness.


End file.
